Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The tattoo on my leg has long faded, yet that rare feeling of exuberance I felt while those curly vines were being drawn remains. I find myself still basking in the warmth of those luminous, sunlit days my friends and I spent on the island. The typical seaside sunny scene that surrounded me—people in swimwear and various states of undress wandering around with their bare feet in the powdery soft sand, the sky’s blue brilliance dotted with multicolored parasails, hawkers tempting easily tempted tourists with a variety of wares, adjacent restaurants that made me feel as if I’m in the middle of a mall and not along the beach—was a mere backdrop for celebrating ties of friendship.

As we were jostled and lurched sideways by the boat, I felt how simple and easy it always is to be among friends whom I can happily reminisce about the past and ponder the future with. I never felt the need to explain myself--or why, when or how I did this or that--because they already know. They understand. Uninterrupted by the unnecessary and unhindered by the lack of common ground, our endless conversations, like our friendship, flowed beautifully.